Day 34: Dino Parks, Soft Plays and Party Invitations

Morning Wake-Up

Bank Holiday Monday and I had my friend come to visit with her daughter. Long-time readers might remember her – my friend from Day 9, the one who met me for drinks in ‘Big London.’

I had my usual 6.30am wake-up call from River. He still hasn’t realised he can just climb out of bed now that the cot is gone, so I guess that’s a win for me. The BBQ yesterday was great fun, but, like all our BBQs, it went on a bit late, so there was still a lot to tidy up this morning.

But, somehow, I managed it. Everyone up, showered, dressed and out of the house by 10.30am. Park by 11.15am. I’ll take that as a personal victory.

The Dino Park Obsession

River has been stuck on a loop for the past few days. “I want to go to the dino park. I want to ride a rollercoaster.” It’s on repeat. Louder and stronger each day. I’m guessing he’s seen an advert.

So when I said, “We’re going to the park today,” the response was immediate: “NO! Dino park.”

I assumed he’d forget as soon as we arrived and find something fun to focus on. But nope. Not the log circuit. Not the stone pile. Not even the sand area with the slide and roundabout. Everything was met with “I want to go home.”

Kike’s theory is simple: home is great. Why wouldn’t he want to go home? Maybe he’s right. Maybe after a summer of so many outings, River just wants the comfort of his own space.

The Pub Lunch Escape

Eventually, I gave up and handed him my phone so the girls could keep playing. Then we headed for lunch. The walk there? You guessed it. “I want to go home” the whole way.

And then, as soon as we sat down… he fell asleep.

Honestly, it was a blessing. We got a peaceful lunch. He woke just as we were leaving but instead of pushing it, I made a quick decision. “Mummy is going back to the park. Daddy, take River home.”

He looked at me. Paused. Then simply said, “Bye bye, mummy.”

That was it. No meltdown. Just a goodbye. Home really does trump everything right now.

It worked out perfectly. Kike was happy to skip a second trip out and I got an afternoon at the park with the girls. We played, fed the ducks and even treated ourselves to ice-creams and ice lollies (a poor imitation Twister but still).

Quiet Afternoon, Loud Thoughts

By the time we got home, River was happily splashing away in his water tray. We had a calm evening: dinner, then 101 Dalmatians. Summer and I are seeing it at the theatre tomorrow and I realised she’s never actually watched the film.

The Party Dilemma

Last night, I received a party invitation – for River. I was busy at the time so I ignored it but I properly looked at it today. The invite was from a nursery friend. Surprising in itself, since I don’t do drop-offs, I pick him up from after-school club, River never talks about other kids and always blanks any children who ever say hi to him. Kike wasn’t too surprised though. “He’s actually quite popular,” he said.

I looked at the details. A soft play party. And not just any soft play—that soft play. The giant warehouse one with tunnels, slides, ball pits and multiple exits. Again, for those who have read from the beginning – Day 3. I do not like soft play.

Cue flashbacks: me crawling through sweaty tunnels, dragging River out while apologising to angry parents whose children he’s lashed out at in overwhelm. Me crying in the car park, feeling like the worst mum for even trying.

Soft play and birthday parties are like a double-whammy: cake, singing, crowds, transitions, other kids’ big emotions. None of it is set up for River. None of it ends well for us.

The “No” I Needed

At first, I wrestled with it. He’d been invited. Shouldn’t we go? Shouldn’t he get the chance?

Kike immediately said, “No. It’ll be horrible.”

My friend at the park, without hesitation said, “No. It’ll be horrible for both of you.”

They were right. So I said no.

Choosing the Kinder Path

So no, we won’t be going to the party. And that’s not failure. It’s not missing out. It’s choosing what’s right for River right now.

There’s sadness in the decision, of course. I want him to have the same opportunities as other children. I want him to be the one running into the soft play with excitement, singing happy birthday and joining in without hesitation. But that’s my picture, not his.

The truth is, he doesn’t need to fit into anyone else’s version of childhood. He just needs the space to grow in his own way. And that means saying no to things that aren’t set up for him yet.

Because there will be other invites. There will be other chances. And when he’s ready—when he wants it—he’ll get to enjoy them fully.

For now, we’ll make our own moments. A SEND soft play session where he can play without pressure. Quiet family BBQs in the garden where he feels safe. Days where success looks like a happy splash in a water tray, or a peaceful lunch because he felt secure enough to fall asleep.

And when I look at it like that, I realise, we’re not behind. We’re not missing out. We’re just walking a different path. And it’s still full of joy, growth and love.